Hope Everlasting
by An Indigo Moon
Summary: A young RiverClan shecat learns that she has kin in ThunderClan. Can she trust her? And is StarClan's prophecy focused on her and her family? First fanfic, and I'm not great at summaries. R&R please!
1. Prologue

Prologue

A soft night breeze blew across the wet swampland of ShadowClan territory. There were no clouds in the brilliant night sky, and the stars shone down upon two figures on the edge of the Thunderpath.

"You couldn't have chosen a better night, could you?" the larger cat asked. It was a gray tom with luminous green eyes. His muscles rippled as he fidgeted, kneading the ground with his paws and pacing. "With the light of Silverpelt _and_ the moon, any cat can see us if they looked."

"You worry too much," the smaller one answered, purring. Her black coat blended in with her surroundings, in contrast to the tom's pelt, which glowed like liquid mercury.

"No, that would be you, remember? You're the one who won't keep one of the kits."

Indeed, there were two small bundles that mewed and squirmed on the ground beside the adult cats. They looked down on the kits tenderly, as any parents would. When the she-cat raised her head, her eyes were filled to the brim with sorrow. "If I could, I would. But I can't say I lost one kit and not the other. It wouldn't make any logical sense."

"So what are you going to do with the other one?"

"Well, she's hardier than her sister, so I was thinking of taking her to RiverClan."

"RiverClan!" the tom sputtered. "Are you mousebrained?"

"That's actually a very good question. A queen willing to give up her kits has always been mousebrained in my rules."

The gray cat's gaze softened. "You're not willing to give them up; it's out of necessity." He rubbed her cheek. "So tell me again why she's going to RiverClan?"

"Because she can make the journey. And because I don't want her living off rabbits for the rest of her life. WindClan might be fast, but RiverClan is much better fed."

The smaller kit began mewing. They were less than half a moon old, and could barely open their eyes and walk. Her paws searched for her mother belly, and, not finding it, she began crying louder. Her cream tabby coat glinted silver as she struggled on the cold ground.

Her squirming awoke the other kit. She was a cinnamon ticked tabby, but not nearly as fussy as her sister. She looked around with green eyes, yawned, and tucked her head back in to sleep.

Slowly the other kit realized no one was going to feed her and she too closed her pretty blue eyes.

The queen's amber eyes glinted with amusement. The tom looked pointedly at her and asked, "And tell me why I have to take the one with the bad behavior to ThunderClan with me?"

"Because she's not as strong as the other one." The she-cat picked up the larger kit and bounded across the Thunderpath. It was never busy this late at night.

"Not as strong, sure," the tom muttered to himself. "She's doing this to punish me, I know it." When he came across, though, the pained look in the queen's eyes told him otherwise.

He put down the kit and entwined his tail with hers. "I'll take good care of our kits," he promised hoarsely.

She rubbed his cheek. "I know you will."

"I love you," he whispered.

"And I'll always love you, Bramblewhisker."

The two cats took up their precious cargo and traveled their separate ways.


	2. Patrol

The first draft of this was deleted when my computer went wacko. Hopefully it's better then the last one.

* * *

Wildheart silently stalked the small mouse nibbling a nut five tail-lengths in front of her. Although she was of RiverClan, the she-cat often had a craving for something other then fish. Not that she didn't like fish – it just got too monotonous after a while.

Slowly, she sneaked up on her unsuspecting prey. About one fox-length away, its ears pricked up in alarm, but it was too late. With a sudden sprint and pounce, she caught the mouse andbit its neck. Joyfully carrying it in her mouth, she returned to the rest of the RiverClan patrol were waiting.

Wildheart was lucky – she had two good friends with her on patrol. Although Mossface was much older then Mudheart, he still managed to keep up with the best of them. It saddened her that he would be joining the elders soon.

As she approached, Mossface yawned and stretched. He was a rather skinny pale tom with dark Siamese markings and blue eyes. Wildheart fancied that he was part Siamese, but when she asked him, he always answered with an amused purr, "My mother was a tortoiseshell and my father was pure white. I don't think Siamese blood produces those colors." Still, she had to ask.

Mudheart was munching on a silver-scaled fish, fresh from the river. He was a handsome orange tabby with green eyes. Apparently, he was darker when he was born, which was how he acquired the Mud prefix, but turned lighter over the seasons. As she brought back the mouse, he rolled his eyes. "You know, Wildheart, fishing is so much easier. And quicker too."

"Maybe I just like woodland prey," she retorted. Putting her catch down, she took a large bite. It was warm and juicy, and flooded her mouth with a delicious salty flavor. Wildheart looked up warmly and asked Mossface, "Would you like some?"

Not unkindly, he shook his head. "Eating on the job just gets my lazy these days."

Nodding, Wildheart continued to eat. She and Mudheart finished at the same time, and the patrol continued along the river bank.

The wind was slight that day. It flowed like the river, ruffling Wildheart's fur. Resisting the urge to purr in pleasure, she added a little prance to her walk. It was a beautiful day – the sun was shining on her cinnamon coat with tabby markings and there wasn't a cloud in the great blue expanse of sky. The breeze blew toward her again, but this time it brought a scent of invaders. ThunderClan!

Wildheart hissed warningly as she spied them on the opposite bank. They might not have been attackers, but she still felt the fur on her hackles rise. There was one tom and two she-cats, and they were all cats she knew.

The leader of the patrol was Leopardbelly, a black queen with a mottled brown underbelly and blue eyes. She was well-known her agility and amazing hunting skills, even in other Clans. She nodded respectfully to the deputy of RiverClan. The cat behind her was a younger she-cat named Spottedheart. Her cream coat with tabby markings bristled and she snarled openly at RiverClan, blue eyes flashing. Wildheart could feel her own lips lifting.

Bringing up the rear was small fawn-colored tom with blue eyes called Bramblemask. Wildheart remembered him from the last gathering. Supposedly, Spottedheart was his littermate, but he seemed much calmer then his sister. He was well-known for his strength, despite his size.

Wildheart felt a pelt gently but warningly brush her flank.

"Watch yourself." The wind carried Mossface's whisper to her.

"Well, ThunderClan isn't exactly at the top of my fresh kill list."

"You still must watch your actions."

Wildheart sighed. "Thanks. I'll remember next time." This wasn't how the deputy of a Clan should be acting. Swallowing her pride, she stiffly nodded her head to Leopardbelly, then flicked her tail to command her patrol to keep moving.

Something drew her back to look at Spottedheart. She was pretty, yes, but no more then any other cat. In fact, there were hardly any distinguishing features about her that made her noticeable. Then why did Wildheart get an uncomfortable feeling when she saw her? She shook it off and continued along the bank.

Wildheart had the strangest sensation, and quickly turned her head over her shoulder again. Spottedheart was watching her. As she saw Wildheart's green eyes gaze back at hers, her cold baby-blueones twinkled with something almost like victory. With a casual nod, Spottedheart bounded up the hill to follow her patrol.

For some odd reason, Wildheart couldn't suppress a shiver.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, I didn't include one of these on the prologue because... I didn't. Anyway, just as a warning, there are a lot of Bramblesomethings and Somethinghearts. So please don't get confused.

Please review. Constructive criticism is always helpful, along with a few comments.

My life is a bit hectic, so if I don't update in a while, it's not because I hate you or anything, it's cause I've got writer's block and I don't have time to dwell on it. But I enjoy this story and would like to continue it if I get some reviews. 


	3. Sickness

The patrol returned with plenty of fresh kill, since Mudheart had insisted on going hunting again as they were heading back. Wildheart deposited two large fish and a rather plump vole – which she was saving for herself for later.

"Wildheart," a voice whispered behind her. She nearly jumped out of her skin. Ever since seeing Spottedheart, she had been overly skittish. That cat gave her the jitters.

"Are you okay?" the voice asked, concerned. "You seem a bit…high-strung."

"I'm fine, Raintail," Wildheart replied as she turned around. Raintail was a pretty tortoiseshell she-cat with white paws, and also RiverClan's medicine cat. They had grown up in the nursery together and were best friends. "What's the matter?"

Raintail took a shaky breath. "It's Spottedstar. He's getting worse."

Trembling, she nodded. "Where is he?"

"In his den." The two cats trotted to the high rock in the center of the clearing. Directly in back of it was another boulder, this one with a large hole in the center. It dark and warm, but it stank of sickness. Shuddering, Wildheart gathered herself and walked through the entrance, barely awknowledging the guard outside.

Spottedstar was lying on his side on the moss bedding laid out for him, wheezing. Wildheart caught her breath – she didn't think she could handle this. Spottedstar was the only father-figure, or parent-figure for that matter, in her life. He had been her mentor, her friend, her diary. And now she was losing him.

"This is his seventh life, right?" she whispered.

Raintail shook her pretty head. "It's his eighth."

At the sound of their voices, Spottedstar raised his head feebly. "Raintail? Wildheart? Is that you?"

"Yes, Spottedstar, I'm here." Wildheart moved closer.

He snarled as best he could, and Wildheart stopped in her tracks. "Don't… come near me. I'm…not well." Reluctantly, she retreated.

"Yes, and that's why we're going to get you better." Raintail approached him in a brisk, no-nonsense way that was her specialty when she put her mind to it. "Here are some juniper berries for the bellyache, and some poppy seeds for the pain." She pawed some herbs stored in the back of the cave toward Spottedstar. "They'll make you feel better."

With a painstaking slowness that tore at Wildheart's heart strings, the old cat licked up the medicine cat's prescription.

Suddenly, his eyes glazed over and his whole body tensed. Wildheart looked around, but she could she nothing. Terrified, she stared at Raintail, eyes pleading for an explanation. But the pretty she-cat only shook her head helplessly. "He's on his way to StarClan." Her mew was barely audible.

Eyes widening, Wildheart looked at the remains of the herbs and then at Raintail. And then at the herbs again. "Where those… deathberries then?"

Raintail's hackles rose angrily. "Of course not!" she spat. "You think I would murder my leader!"

The guard outside the door, a large black cat with white ears and amber eyes called Iceear, peered into the gloom. "Is everything alright, Wildheart?"

"Yes," she replied shakily. "Everything's fine." The guard shrugged his massive shoulders and returned to his task. Her next phrase was directed to Raintail. "I didn't mean to offend you. It's just… it's so hard. Too hard."

As quickly as her rage had come, it subsided. Raintail sat on the ground. "I know. Believe me, I know. And I knew he was going, which was what the poppy seeds were for. To ease the pain."

Wildheart nodded and came to sit beside her. The silence around them was smothering, but neither dared to break it.

* * *

Raintail was sleeping when Spottedheart's spirit returned to its body. She had been working all hours for the best few suns without rest. Wildheart understood the feeling. She had hardly slept herself. But she had to be there when he awoke. It wasn't an option.

As soon he took a breath again, Wildheart was at his side. "Easy, easy," she cooed soothingly. "Gentle breaths."

He seemed to nod. Suddenly his eyes flew open and with a flash Wildheart realized they weren't his green eyes, but amber ones that were vaguely familiar. His body convulsed in spasms, and then his voice rang out clear and true.

"_The two who are untouchable_

_In duty as well as love,_

_Will find themselves as kin._

_One is doom to all _

_Yet the other is hope._

_Their rivalry goes deeper then skin." _

Shivering, Wildheart backed away slowly. "Spottedstar?" she whispered. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head briefly, and his green eyes came back. "Yes, fine, Wildheart. Just a bit tired." Spottedstar raised his head and looked at her curiously. This was probably from the fact that she was shaking horribly. "Are you alright?" he asked, gradually getting up.

Mutely, she shook her head before rushing outside. Out of the den. Out of the camp. In her own terrified world.

* * *

A/N: Okies, so the prophecy was horrible. I couldn't think of anything else. Well, actually I did, but that got deleted. glares at computer

Rather shortish. My chapters aren't that long, considering how long it takes to write them. shrugs Can't do much bout that.

Reviews apperciated!


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